


In Between the Lines

by metacrisis_chook



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Conflict at Baschool, During Canon, Episode revisit, F/M, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood - Freeform, Gap Filler, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Alternating, Pride is a piece of shit, Royai - Freeform, Sad Fluff, Sort Of, Subtle Royai, The Dwarf in the Flask, The First Homunculus, Weird Ending, awesome code exchange, because we need more royai, cmon guys would roy really not notice?, episode fillers, hayate is the goodest boi, inspired by the shirt headcanon, riza gets a flower vase, roy has uncanny timing, weird mix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metacrisis_chook/pseuds/metacrisis_chook
Summary: Exploring the Royai interactions from FMAB episodes 37-40, from the moment Roy realizes something is wrong while he's on the telephone with Riza, right up to their amazing code exchange sequence (and a little bit beyond and in between).
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	In Between the Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if it counts as a tw, but if you've watched episode 37, you know what Riza's encounter with Pride goes like, and she remains shaken by it throughout this fic. And obviously....spoilers.

Roy Mustang is having quite a night. Not in the sense people might think - and Roy’s sole mission has always been to make them think exactly that - the ravishing girl seen to leave his company was actually one of his foster sisters, with whom he met up in hopes of receiving some much needed intel. She was indeed able to give him some useful (albeit disturbing) information, and right after he said goodbye to her, Roy crossed paths with a florist who had some interesting news for him from none other than the formidable Northern Wall of Briggs herself. Things are definitely beginning to stir all over the country, and Roy can’t help but feel a little excited. Needless to say, it has been a successful night, and he thinks he has been able to deal with everything quite well so far and can go home.

Except, of course, he is stuck with a car full of flowers.

When he said he’ll buy all the flowers off the cart, he meant it. There didn’t seem to be that many of them anyway, but ten minutes and 35000 cenz later, he is seriously questioning his life choices. After stashing all the bouquets, bundles, garlands and every other conceivable kind of floral arrangement into the vehicle, there are still about twenty more lying at his feet. By this point, people have started shooting him looks, and even the usually swooning girls in the streets are giving him a wide berth. Not that Roy had any plans to give away flowers to any beautiful ladies tonight...although, he can think of an exception.

Grinning like an idiot, Roy runs up to the nearest telephone box and dials the number.

Riza slides down onto the floor of her small apartment, having made barely a few steps away from the door. Her entire body is still shaking, no matter how much she tries to suppress it, as if phantom tendrils of darkness still locked her in their vice-like grip. Hayate paces around her feet, sensing her agitation, but she can’t even make herself reach out to him, her hands pressed tightly against her forehead. It’s all she can do to not collapse completely.

_I’ll be watching you, from the shadows._

Is there nowhere she can go?

Suddenly, a harsh ringing cuts through the air, making her jump. The telephone sits upon the lone table on the other side of the room, half enveloped in darkness. The irrational fear grips at her again, but she can’t bear to endure the din for too long. Her legs feel like jelly as she approaches the table. After a final moment of hesitation, Riza lifts the receiver to her ear, heart hammering painfully in her chest.

“Hello?”

“Hello there madam, this is your neighborhood florist!”

Roy is relieved that she has picked up - only after dialing did he notice the time and wonder if she had fallen asleep already. Well..of course, the telephone might have woken her up. On the other side of the receiver, he hears Riza exhale in exasperation.  
“What are you talking about, Colonel?” She groans. Roy cringes. _Too late._ But he isn’t going to let the opportunity to talk to her slide. It has been a while since he last checked on her.

“Eh, sorry..I kinda got drunk and somehow bought a car full of flowers,” he makes up the dumbest excuse he can think of. But on the bright side, if someone does happen to be listening in and reporting to Bradley, Roy figures the Fuhrer can hardly charge him with anything if he can pass off the conversation as drunken rambling. He continues, trying to sound as flirty and befuddled as he can, “Wanna do me a favor and take some off my hands?”

He expects a reply laced with amusement, as Riza usually knows to play along for a little while to humor him, or even perhaps Riza admonishing him (probably the more realistic possibility), which would have been fine as well.  
What he never expects is total silence from the other end of the line.

“What’s wrong?” Roy asks sharply, all pretense forgotten. He hears Riza trying to stifle a gasp, just a second too late, but she still doesn’t reply. “Did something happen?” He presses on, his uneasiness growing stronger by the second.  
  
“No, sir,” Riza finally speaks up, her voice controlled. “It’s nothing.”  
 _ _ _  
__Bullshit. _“__ Are you sure?” _ _  
__  
“Yes, sir. Everything’s fine.” comes the mechanical reply.  
It’s Roy who doesn’t respond this time. “I’m sorry to let you down, but I don’t even own a flower vase,” Riza adds, as if trying to inject some normalcy into the conversation, undoubtedly because she has noticed his silence. “Thanks for thinking of me, though. Have a good night.”  
And just like that, Riza tells him it’s time to end the conversation. He doesn’t like it, but he knows to trust her judgement. “M’kay...catch you later.”  
“Okay. Bye.”

Roy stands unmovingly for a good minute, the receiver still in his hands. He plays the conversation over and over again in his mind, trying to process her words and the restraint in her voice. Although he’d like to fancy that she’s just exhausted after a long day, he knows he’d be lying to himself. Roy can tell the difference between when she’s tired, annoyed, angry and frightened. And he is certain that something has made her unsettled. It makes his brain conjure unpleasant explanations.

He is in an absolute dilemma right now - torn between running to her apartment, an action that can endanger them both, and somehow convincing himself to go back home. It seems unthinkable that even a few minutes ago, he was brimming with excitement after an evening of successful intel-gathering. It isn’t the first time Riza has shut herself off abruptly; she tends to do that when she’s upset, preferring to deal with her emotions on her own than what she claims as burdening anyone else with them, a mindset developed after so many years of her life spent in loneliness, left to fend for herself. If Roy wants her to open up to him, he always has to tread carefully before she relents. Perhaps his mind is slightly exaggerating the situation, because he has never really stopped worrying since the transfer. But his worry isn’t exactly misplaced either, and the notion of Riza dealing with her predicament, whatever it is, alone in her apartment, is not something he can have the knowledge of and still have a good night’s sleep. He steps out of the telephone box, slightly unbalanced.

__

Ten minutes later, his car exits the boulevard, and after ten more, pulls over at the familiar apartment block.

__

Night has set in deeply by now. There is light in the stairway, but the passages themselves are dark save for the anbaric glow of the lampposts crawling in through the windows at the far end of the corridors. There is none of the usual background hum - the mix of the subtle movements of tenants inside their homes, the light crackle and occasional music from radios, and the horns of cars in the distance - it’s absolutely quiet, enough to put Roy on edge. He walks as noiselessly as he can up several flights of stairs and to the door, and reaches out.

He stops himself at the last moment, fingers hovering just above the doorbell.

__

_What am I doing?_

__

He rests his forehead against the wood dejectedly, his free arm right above his head. There is no sound coming from inside, nor is there any sliver of light emanating from under the door. There isn’t even any hint of the soft pattering of Hayate’s feet.

__

_Go home, Roy._

__

He mentally curses himself for being so rash. This is exactly what Bradley wants him to do, and he almost played right into his hands. He can’t believe he has actually come as far as her doorstep - just how much danger has he just put her into by this? Roy is certain that Bradley has means of finding out; he almost feels like he is being watched at this very moment, the back of his neck prickling. Perhaps it’s true, who knows? His presence here is incriminating enough even if he doesn’t proceed. And anyway, the Fuhrer never needed his Ultimate Eye to see that Roy would prefer to be on the other side of that door.

Roy crouches down, and places the flowers set in the newly purchased vase beside the door frame. It’s ridiculously big; he had blindly rushed through the closing shops and purchased the largest vase he could find that would hold the most flowers in it. And under different circumstances, he’s sure Riza would’ve chewed him out the next day, and the thought makes him smile sadly. Under different circumstances, he could’ve delivered the flowers in person, and stayed.

His feet feeling like lead, Roy drags himself out of the corridor and the building, wondering if this madness will ever end.

__

__\------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ _

__

It is not until after several days that Roy finally sees Riza. He was hoping to catch her somewhere in HQ (he couldn’t just barge into the Fuhrer’s office, as much as he’d like to), and only two days later during lunch time he manages to find her seated alone at a table in the cafeteria. He grabs the chance and walks over quickly to join her, and to his relief, she doesn’t object. Roy is glad to have her company again after so long. They converse for a while, and he tries his best to humor her (and gets roasted instead for procrastinating with his paperwork, as usual). He can almost pretend like their lives are back to normal, as if he’s sneaking a few words with her in private before the rest of the gang joins them for lunch, a routine he never knew he cherished so much. Bradley really has made sure to uproot Roy’s entire support system, scattering the men to the furthest corners of the country and keeping Riza so tantalizingly close to him in Central, but still so out of reach.

He can tell Riza is not fine. She’s speaking to him, but it’s just not the same. He knows what it’s like when it’s just the two of them talking to each other. Riza usually lets her guard down, even if by a little bit, allowing them both to feel like people who have known each other for almost their entire lives rather than just two colleagues conversing. Right now, she’s barely looking at him, her eyes almost fixated on the ground, replies curt and attempts at humor forced. He can hardly see her face when she’s so determinedly avoiding his gaze, but he can make out that her eyes are sunken, as if she hasn’t been sleeping properly. Whatever little doubt he fed himself over the last few days, that perhaps he really has been overthinking, is gone now.

It worries him to see her visibly upset; Riza had taken the news of her transfer a lot more calmly than he did, and she held herself up quite well too in the following few days. She’s tough as nails, and a lot braver than he has ever been. The fact that she’s perturbed is a sign that things are not going well for her. Whatever Bradley might be doing to stress her out - for there can be no other explanation behind this - has definitely crossed some kind of line, because she has continued being upset since the last time they’d spoken. And Roy wishes she’d _tell_ him, somehow, instead of trying to pretend things are fine so as to not worry him. Even under normal circumstances, the more time passes, the more impossible it is to make her open up about something. He almost wishes he had rung her doorbell that night.

__

Riza was having lunch in the cafeteria, after having decided that she might feel safer in a large crowd, but she was wrong. The place is indeed bustling with people, blissfully oblivious to the storm raging in her mind, and the multitude of their overlapping, ever-shifting shadows does not help. She was lost in her own thoughts, sitting alone at a table, until Roy appeared in front of her.  
Riza supposes she should’ve guessed he’ll track her down sooner or later. Try as she might, she never really manages to fool him - just as much as he has never been able to fool her. Even their silences speak in greater magnitudes than they can ever hope to verbally convey; they simply know each other too well. The phonecall from two nights ago was probably enough to send alarms blaring in his head anyway; she knows it’s true, because he really had come running to her apartment afterwards, though he never announced himself. She found out the next morning. The vase full of flowers still sits in her living room as proof, beside the photograph of them as children that she has kept. Riza almost smiles, but she is still too aware of the shadow at her own feet, and it drives her mad not being able to tell whether it was her own or something more sinister.

 _He shouldn’t be here _ _.___ She feels like she’s jeopardizing Roy’s safety just by breathing around him - but Roy doesn’t know that. He can guess something is wrong, but how can she convey just why it is more dangerous than ever to converse with her now? What if he directly asks questions next? Knowing Roy, if he can’t get answers from her, he’s likely to go investigating on his own even with Bradley’s threat hanging in the air, and the even greater danger that he doesn’t know about. Riza’s blood runs cold at the very thought. _What then?_ What’s to say he isn’t in danger when he’s alone too _ _-_ what if Pride is watching him as well?_

Riza glances at Roy across the table. He looks very dejected, like a sad little puppy, undoubtedly because of her reticence, and trying to cover that up by pretending to be engrossed in his reports. Failing spectacularly too, because his eyes have been staring at the same spot somewhere in the document for the last few minutes, and she can bet his idly moving hand really isn’t writing notes.

_His notes._

Riza weighs the pros and cons of the idea slowly blossoming in her mind. It’s maddeningly dangerous. Her pulse quickens even further just at the thought of it. But it’s absolutely crucial to get the message through if she wants Roy to be on his guard. She considers her words carefully before she speaks.

“Well, apparently... Scar is up in the North,” Riza says, letting her mug bump the table twice almost carelessly before she sets it down properly.

__

Roy is immediately alarmed when he realizes she’s speaking in code. He’s all too familiar with it, as he uses the same technique for encrypting his own alchemy notes. The fact that she has resorted to using the one code that only he is able to catch on means something is very, very wrong. He plays along, adding to the conversation with his own remarks to make it sound as natural as possible, all the while scribbling down her words under the guise of doing his paperwork. Riza excuses herself soon afterwards, much to his dismay, but he knows it’s probably for the best. He gathers his things quickly and leaves the cafeteria as well. Roy contemplates whether to decode whatever message is waiting for him back in his office, but decides against it, and heads in the opposite direction.

Riza splashes some water on her face, relishing its coolness against her skin.

Sending a message to Roy like that was beyond risky, but to her relief, he had caught on quickly and made no further comments. However, the task had left her uncharacteristically shaken, so she made a beeline to the restroom to give herself a moment. Right now, she’s alone, which is potentially dangerous for her - she forces herself to not look at her own shadow. _Breathe _ _.___ But on the upside, there is nobody around, so she can drop her guard and take time to gather herself.

Riza removes her uniform’s jacket, letting her body breathe in the much lighter shirt she’s wearing underneath - she doesn’t have her usual turtleneck on today. In fact, she hasn’t been wearing it for three days in a row now. Riza hates to admit it, but she has still not been able to digest the horrific encounter with Pride. She recoils violently every now and then, as if her skin has been permanently branded with the memory, and while getting dressed for work on the morning after the incident she almost went into a full-on panic mode as the black turtleneck clung tightly onto her body. There are quite a few shirts stored neatly in her closet always available for her to use, but in the end she chose to wear the one shirt that wasn’t hers, left in her apartment almost a lifetime ago, something that instinctively brought her comfort. It’s the same one she has on today - light blue verging on white, perhaps a little too big for her, but wrapped around her frame with its familiar protectiveness all the same. Riza never dreamed that she would one day find herself entertaining such a sentimental train of thought, but she really has been that badly shaken, past feeling annoyance or embarrassment. She feels even more wound up now, every nerve in her head throbbing and her breath threatening to hitch. She tries unclipping the barrette, shaking her long tresses loose from the tight updo, and runs a wet hand over her scalp for good measure. But it hardly helps; she can feel the headache building. She looks at her weary reflection in the mirror, her sunken eyes and the cut on her cheek still slightly red, stinging from the water on her face.

_No, this won’t do._

She can’t keep losing her grip like this so easily. She has been through countless dangerous situations before, and dealt with them with a cool head and no small amount of courage. Her current enemies may have a few superhuman advantages, but their actions all boiled down to the same old things - fearful surveillance masked by very loud threats. And them taking a decision as drastic as revealing their identity in order to intimidate her probably means they know how formidable she can be.  
Riza washes her face one more time, fixes her hair and smooths out the wrinkles on the shirt. She’s scared for his safety more than her own, as she always has been, but not being able to be there for him like she promised, exactly when he needs his back watched the most, shatters her more than anything. Bradley has literally killed two birds with one stone, because Roy has been used against her just as she has been used against him. But despite all this, they’ve both managed to look out for each other in some way.

 _You’ve done the best you can for the time being._ She can’t afford to be vulnerable right now. If the enemies are watching, she doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction. If she keeps her cool, she may have the opportunity to learn more about their plans and pass on some valuable information again.There is no choice for her but to head back now. Steeling herself, Riza dons her jacket, gives a final look at the mirror, and walks out into the corridor.

“Lieutenant?”

Riza stops short at the sound of his voice. Roy scans the corridor quickly, and walks towards her. She doesn’t say anything to him, but he can tell from her clenched jaw and the set of her shoulders how tense she is. “I thought you’d be back to work by now,” he comments casually, but in truth his heart is hammering. _Selim Bradley is a homunculus._ Like it wasn’t already bad enough that the Fuhrer is a monster, but his so-called son, the one parading around like a filial little schoolboy, is one too? The implications of having a second homunculus right in their midst are disastrous, but his immediate concern is for her. _If Riza found out, does it mean they deliberately made themselves known to her?_ Did they do it so that they could watch her iron-clad resolve crumble? Just how powerful is this new homunculus? So many questions hurtle across his mind, fear rising like bile in his throat. How can he let her go back to that office?

“Yes, I was just about to head out,” she replies curtly. “Took a few minutes to freshen up, that’s all.”

He searches her face, trying to communicate - what exactly is he trying to communicate? That he understood her message, that he’s worried, that he wishes she’d give him some kind of sign that she’s alright - but Riza avoids looking directly at him, her gaze somewhere vaguely to his right. His eyes fall to the thin gash on her cheek, angry against her pale face.

_They’ve been threatening her._

They’ve actually gone as far as physically harming her to keep her subdued. It doesn’t matter how little - Roy can’t stand it.  
He knows stalling her is risky - hell, even being around her is dangerous, because Roy knows Bradley’s eyes are everywhere, and possibly the new homunculus's too - but he can’t help it. Throwing caution to the wind, he reaches out for her face, fingers brushing lightly over the cut. She’s too shocked to even protest, and he lets his hand linger for as long as he can dare, looking straight into her eyes. Riza doesn’t even breathe.

“You should get that checked. Did your cat scratch you?”

She begins mumbling something in response, but he has already wheeled around, forcing himself to walk away. He doesn’t think he can manage to utter another word without his voice cracking, and he can most definitely not bear to look at her face without doing something dangerously impulsive. He merely lifts his arm silently in goodbye like he so often did, without looking back.

It feels like the time he left her standing guard outside alone as he went in to collect allies and walked into a trap instead - the beginning of all this nightmare; only this time, she’s the one already in the lion’s den, and he’s the one forced to retreat.

He’s going to put a sword through that bastard.

**Author's Note:**

> (Shoutout to [@ caesurables](https://caesurables.tumblr.com/post/617812720004251648/i-came-across-this-fic-title-in-between-the) on Tumblr for making such a lovely fanart based on this, I'm still crying over it T⌓T ♥ )
> 
> I can't believe I've posted again D: FMAB is once more consuming my life, and it's probably better to let the words flow while they're still coming, no matter how strange the end result is. I need to constantly remind myself that I write for the sake of enjoyment and my love for the series, not to cater to anyone in particular...although, this piece feels nothing short of fanservice, partly to myself 😂 
> 
> My other FMAB episode exploration with Ed, Riza and Roy ( [All Things Unspoken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012667) ) remains my personal favorite, but this one was fun to write (dabbling with Royai is always fun!), even though it might not be executed well enough for everyone's taste, with so much amazing Royai fics out there *_* I just wanted to go back to some of my favorite Royai moments that happen throughout these three episodes and sprinkle in a little something extra.
> 
> This too was originally posted on [Tumblr](https://the-royai-household.tumblr.com/post/616707400268988416/royai-in-between-the-lines) , but in the last few days I've been bombarded with a lot of Royai content, and I came across a post discussing an unpopular(?) "Riza wears Roy's shirts" theory, which made me go back to this piece and make a few adjustments, and that is what I've posted here :3 How'd you like it? Will you sue me for the ending (or maybe for the entire thing)? 😂 This took quite a lot of effort to write... while I'll happily describe a rock in thirty sentences squished into one, I can't write fluff (not even sad fluff, it seems) for my life. On the bright side, I actually wrote and posted something again (my second post on the site, yay!) and I count it as a pretty great personal achievement ^-^ I have serious respect for those who churn out fics on a regular basis, pls teach me your ways ;_; as usual, please forgive this chikin for the errors in the writing, and for possibly getting your hopes up with the Royai tag - *runs*


End file.
